


Year of the Libra.

by Cgest



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Coming of Age, Emo, F/M, Multi, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cgest/pseuds/Cgest
Summary: After 8 years away from Riverdale Jughead moves back, and blames all of his low-points on astrology.





	Year of the Libra.

Jughead sat in front of his Macbook Pro and gave out a heavy sigh. He thought he was going to be admitted to this film school, and finally get to escape Riverdale, but when he prematurely checked his application status he came face to face with a lengthy rejection letter. 

"Typical" he muttered. He thought that 2017 was supposed to be the "Year of the Libra" or whatever bullshit astrologist Susan Miller spoon fed him at least once a month when he read her monthly forecasts. Who knows maybe it was his year, but instead of taking every opportunity presented to him at the time, he opted to follow Betty so she could pursue her dreams instead. Jughead was optimistic about his future because he was in love and when you're in love things just pan out, right? 

He recalled how some film asshole he was talking to about relocating for the woman he loved told him he was "Noble for doing that. Because not many people think with their heart anymore". Now Jughead understood why people didn't think with their heart anymore. It was stupid and pointless, and landed you in positions where you were on the ebb of 29 and "fun-employed".

Jughead wondered how people were okay with just existing. He wished he could just wake up in the morning, make coffee, sit outside on his front porch and just be in total bliss that he was able to smell fresh air and watch birds and just be alive. He would never be that way. He always thought he was destined for a greater purpose, and currently that purpose was to simply exist in Riverdale because he thought with his heart instead of his fucking head.

Jughead felt like an anchor hurtling toward the ocean floor. From the moment he woke up until the moment he went to bed.

It didn't help that every asshole in Riverdale was getting married either. He felt like he was behind some weird social norm because Riverdale was impossibly small and small people from small towns did small shit, like get married before they are 30. Jughead made a jerk off motion with his hand as he eye-rolled thinking about it.

He looked again at the words that permeated in front of his face. "Each year we get thousands of applicants, and you were invited to interview because you held great promise in changing the industry ..." the rest continued to trail off before he stopped reading again. 

Jughead was going to be 29 and thought about all the wrong turns he continued to take. He thought maybe he was supposed to succumb to his Serpent roots after all. What else was he supposed to do?

He thought about a random conversation he had with Kevin about going back to school, even though he already had a million educational degrees. 

"Man, I remember when I was first in college, and there'd be someone their 30's in my class and I always thought 'What the fuck happened to that guy'? You know? Like what in their life was so fucked up they were back in an undergraduate class with a bunch of 20 year olds"? 

Jughead checked his horoscope, because how else was he supposed to know what the fuck to do now that this film school rejected him? 

He skimmed the short paragraph for Libra; 

"Oct 17, 2017 - A new company or new profession will catch your eye. Perhaps this is a company you would like to invest in, or a profession that you would like to get involved in. Either way, don't be afraid to jump aboard. This is what you've been waiting for."

Jughead inhaled and exhaled deeply. He stood up from the table he was sitting at in his kitchen and proceeded to throw his coffee mug toward the cabinets. He watched it sail through the air and collide with the perfectly white cabinet doors. Coffee splattered them and ceramic cascaded everywhere. He took his hands and shoved his computer over the edge of the table, listening to it clatter to the floor. He even flipped the kitchen table just for the fuck of it. In this moment he felt the slightest release. 

He hated his horoscope and the "Year of the Libra" that he hadn't realized only held two moments for potential. He hated that it would take another 17 years for everything to line up just perfectly so things wouldn't be so fucking hard. But most of all he hated that he believed in any of this ridiculous bullshit because seriously what were horoscopes anyway but affirmations that you aren't fucking up? Jughead hated himself because he couldn't stop fucking up.


End file.
